


The Mask

by caffeinatednightowl



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27059218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatednightowl/pseuds/caffeinatednightowl
Summary: Lyse has some feelings about Yda...and the mask she was forced to wear.
Kudos: 4





	The Mask

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble brought over from my Tumblr.

Crickets chirped in the night, stars twinkled through the crack in the shutters. The earth and moss and crisp wood of the Black Shroud wafted in, the scent home to Lyse for the last five years. 

But the familiar smells and sounds only made her sick to her stomach. 

She was supposed to be sleeping--at least, that’s what she told everyone. Resting after their ordeal at Baelsar’s Wall. In truth, being around anyone made her feel ill. 

It happened again, someone else she couldn’t save.

When Yda died, the only thing keeping Lyse together was Papalymo. When he came back and said her sister hadn’t made it, Lyse wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. But when he handed her Yda’s mask, Lyse knew what she had to do. 

Yda had meant to much to everyone, to the resistance--they would fall apart without her. For too long Lyse had lived in her shadow, that now, finally, she had found the right path.

Or so she thought. 

Lyse leaned against the smooth wooden wall, forehead resting on her knees. She just wanted everything to stop. All of it to fade away. But that crushing feeling in her chest, the same feeling she had when Yda had died...she didn’t know if it would ever go away. 

Eyes blurred with tears, Lyse lifted her head up, gazing at the leather mask on the floor. Her mask--no, her sister’s mask. The mask Lyse had worn for six years. Yda had worn it, saying “Enemies can’t see where you’ll strike them next if they can’t see your eyes,” but for Lyse, that mask was her comfort, her shield against the world. 

A gentle breeze blew through the window, ruffling Lyse’s long hair. She had been meaning to cut it, Yda had always kept hers shorter. It was better to keep it that way. Six years ago, when she first became Yda, Lyse had thought night and day how to be her sister. “Would Yda act like this?” or “How would Yda answer that?” It was hard for a while, trying to be the sister she had so idolized. But, in time, it came naturally. 

Now, Lyse was better at being Yda than being herself. 

How would Yda act now? Yda would be sad about Papalymo, of course. They had known each other for so long, back when she was first introduced into the Circle of Knowing. She would take time to mourn, but then get up, and continue with her job. Yda was like that, able to package up her grief and keep on, no matter what. 

Water flooded Lyse’s eyes as her hand clenched into a fist. 

She didn’t _want_ to pack it up and go on!

Why did Papalyamo think it was okay to handle it himself? Why did he even cast that spell knowing it would kill him? Why did he push her away? Why did he--

Why did he leave her all alone? 

Lyse shut her eyes, squeezing out tears. Clenching her teeth, she covered her face in her hands. 

_Stop crying,_ she told herself. _Stop it and get up. Yda would. Yda could handle grief. She had seen so much since we left Ala Mhigo. Yda was always..._

_Always better._

Snapping her eyes open, Lyse glared at that mask on the floor. Yda’s mask. Her mask. _The_ mask. A bubble of red-hot fury grew in her chest, and she snatched it up, reared her hand back, ready to throw it against the wall--

That mask. Always that _damned_ mask!

Her hand froze just as she wanted to let go. To toss it away, renounce it all. She had been Yda, always in the shell of Yda, but she was _Lyse!_ She could never fully be Yda! 

_Just let go, let it all go, throw it out, throw it away, just like Papalyamo did, just like Yda did..._

A sob escaped her lips, as Lyse loosed her grip. The mask fell with a clatter to the floor. It gazed up at her, turned slightly, as if to ask a question. _What do you want? What will you do now?_

Lyse didn’t know, she didn’t know, and she wondered if she’d ever know. 


End file.
